


Hot-Tight-Perfect

by respoftw



Series: Tumblr Prompts - Hawksilver edition [47]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Clint, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, PWP, Top Pietro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro had promised to wreck him, to take him apart until there was nothing left but pleas and moans. </p><p>Let it never be said that Pietro doesn’t keep his promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Smut prompt: Clint bottoms for the first time and Pietro fucks him so fast and hard that Clint can't move afterwards (^_^)
> 
> EDIT: Chapter 2 added 12/09/2015 (the team finds out).

_Hot-tight-perfect-holy-fucking-God._

 

Clint was perfect, so amazingly perfect and Pietro is completely unprepared for how this feels. He needs a minute, just to adjust, to take these feelings in. Was this what Clint felt like every time they had sex because if so, then Pietro might never bottom again. That's a lie. As amazing as this is, Pietro knows that he would miss the feeling of Clint inside him. The stretch and burn and fullness that eclipses him every time they have sex. But this is good too.

 

_Hot-tight-perfect-holy-fucking-God._

 

Pietro's eyes are shut tightly, knowing that the added stimuli of seeing Clint laid out, tan and bare beneath him would tip him over the edge. Clint's skin is red hot against his own and Pietro rests his forehead against Clint's neck as he struggles to adjust to the sensation of Clint surrounding him.

 

He hears Clint chuckle, that particularly filthy bass sound that he only ever makes in bed. “You gonna move any time soon or is this too much for you?” he teases, muscles clenching hard around Pietro's overwhelmed cock pulling a long, hard moan from him.

 

Pietro has just about enough presence of mind to be offended at how in control Clint sounds. That wasn't the plan. Pietro had promised to wreck him, to take him apart until there was nothing left but pleas and moans.

 

Let it never be said that Pietro doesn't keep his promises.

 

He pulls back slowly, and Pietro hadn't thought it could get any better but oh-god was he happy to be proven wrong. He keeps moving until only the tip is still inside and then he pushes slowly back in, watching in awe as Clint's hole swallows his cock inch by inch.

 

Clint is looking over his shoulder, grin still in place and he even has the audacity to wink at Pietro. With a growl of determination, Pietro adjusts his hold on Clint's hips and speeds the pace up a bit.

 

_Hot-tight-perfect-holy-fucking-God._

 

Pietro gets lost in the movement, the push and pull of pleasure. He tries to hold back, he really does, because as much as Clint had been up for this, he knows that it's been a really long time since he's trusted someone enough to let them do this but when one particularly strong snap of his hips causes a deep, broken cry to escape from Clint's lips, he's done playing it safe.

 

Encouraged by the garbled moans and breathy whimpers, Pietro moves faster, harder, deeper, milking the most gorgeous noises out of Clint. Sweat is dripping down his nose and he can see it run down Clint's back to pool in the cleft at the top of his glorious ass but Pietro doesn't care. He slams into Clint, again, again, until his mind is empty of everything but bliss.

 

Clint is babbling desperately, face buries in the pillow, ass in the air, the strength from his arms having given out long ago. Pietro takes pity on him and reaches around, taking Clint's straining, dripping cock into his hand. Clint whines, high-pitched and needy, at his touch and screams his release over the sheets after a few strokes, his muscles twitching and fluttering around Pietro.

 

As Clint collapses, utterly wrecked, Pietro pulls out and finishes himself off, hot seed spilling across Clint's glistening back. He collapses onto the bed, pressing a sloppy kiss against Clint's mouth, Clint barely able to muster up the strength to kiss back.

 

Chuckling, Pietro pads over to the bathroom to grab a wash-cloth, recognising that there's no way Clint will be able to make it to the shower any time soon. “I told you I always keep my promises. One wrecked Clint Barton, check.”

 

Clint makes an aborted attempt to flip him off that causes Pietro to laugh even louder. He's asleep by the time Pietro comes back to wipe him down, that's what he gets for dating such an old man, he thinks fondly before curling up beside him and letting Clint's gentle breathing lull him to sleep.

 

*

 

“Ooooohhhhhhh, owwwwwww”

 

Pietro blinks awake to the sound of pained groans. He'd rolled away from Clint during the night and has to twist uncomfortably to find out what's causing all the noise.

 

“Y'ok?” he mumbles sleepily.

 

“No. I am not OK.” Clint's stern voice puts him on alert.

 

“What's wrong? What happened?”

 

“You happened! I can't walk.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I just tried to get out of bed and I'm actually bow-legged. I'm moving like I've been riding a horse for a week, or been fucked senseless by the fastest man alive.”

 

Pietro's face falls. He hadn't meant to hurt Clint, he would never do anything to hurt Clint. Before he can spiral into a pit of despair, Clint reaches out and tilts his chin until Pietro is looking into Clint's smiling blue eyes.

 

“You were amazing. I wouldn't swap last night for anything. But....you're gonna have to explain to Steve why I can't make training today.”

 

Pietro smiles in relief and pulls Clint in for a quick kiss before his smile turns wicked. “I'll go tell Steve right now that I fucked you until you couldn't walk. That should get you a free pass.”

 

“Don't you dare!” Clint tries to grab Pietro but he's too slow and all that's left is a blur and the echo of his cackle as he speeds down the hall.

 

_Ah well_ , Clint thinks. _Still worth it._


	2. Explanations and Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Prompt: Sequel to your last fic where pietro fucks Clint: clint having to make up excuses for why he's limping around and everyone's (esp. Tony) reactions inappropriate to scandalized, please and thank you.

“How come Barton gets to sit this one out? I call favouritism.” Clint should have realised that Tony wouldn't have been content to just let him sit on the sidelines without making some kind of comment. He really should have just stayed in bed but apparently Steve didn't accept 'sex-related muscle strain' as a valid excuse to skip training entirely and so he had been roped into being Cap's eyes on the ground.

 

Speaking of Steve, Captain America was flushing a fairly alarming shade of red at the question and Clint cursed inwardly (not for the first time) at Pietro's decision to tell him the truth about why Clint was walking around like an arthritic eighty-year old today.

 

Knowing that he had to divert Tony's attention away from Steve, lest he sense the embarrassing truth to be found like a shark senses blood in the water, Clint adopts his calm, agent demeanour and answers lazily, “An old back injury flared up, I'm resting up today but don't worry Stark, I'll be back and ready to kick your ass again next time.”

 

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have used the word 'ass' because Tony's eyes immediately start to sparkle with mirth. “And just how, pray tell, did you put your back out, Agent Barton?” He looks around the room with an exaggerated wide-eyed wonder before settling his gaze on a far too pleased looking Pietro. “How about you, Pietro? Care to shed any light on just how your boyfriends back injury happened?”

 

“Yes, it probably happened while they were having sex, we all get it. Now, can we please get back to the training?” Clint could kiss Natasha. Although her words made Wanda go a bit green around the gills, they successfully stole the wind out of Tony's teasing and the moment passed with one last, leering wink from Tony that Clint returned with a salute by his middle finger.

 

That should have been the end of it, it's not like the fact that he and Pietro were sleeping together was news, but Clint hadn't accounted for the one-track mind of Tony Stark. Or the gossip-fuelled minds of Sam and Rhodey. Or the insatiable curiosity for first-hand accounts of all manner of human behaviour of Vision. Basically, everyone except Natasha and Wanda not knowing when to drop something.

 

Vision was easy enough to deal with, all Clint had to do was set Wanda on him when the polite questions started veering into dangerous territory and requests to maybe see some of the action first hand “for empirical study, you understand.”

 

Sam and Rhodey were less direct but Clint just had to put up with their giggling and smirking every time he limped into a room that they were in.

 

Steve eventually stopped blushing. Eventually. After three weeks.

 

Tony though, Tony was infuriating as hell. The lewd comments, the jokes about installing ring cushions for all the chairs. Clint could have put up with it if the teasing had been directed at him but somewhere in Tony's mind, he'd got the idea that Clint's aches and pains were a result of the brutal pounding that _he_ had given _Pietro_.

 

Pietro didn't seem to care, he wasn't ashamed of bottoming, in fact Clint knew that he still preferred to bottom, especially after accidentally putting Clint out of commission for three days. Honestly, the taunts weren't even that bad. Tony was many things, but mean wasn't one of them, at least not when it came to those he considered friends. There was just something about the ribbing that set Clint's hackles up, just the thought that people were making assumptions about their sex life, and incorrect assumptions at that, was galling to him.

 

“You know what, Tony?” Clint snapped, unable to take it any longer. “The reason I could barely walk, the reason that I got to skip training that _one_ time, was because Pietro fucked me. He fucked me so hard and deep and perfect that I could barely move for days afterwards. He took my body to places that no-one else has ever taken it and I loved it, I begged for more, for harder, for faster and he gave it to me. He took me apart piece by piece and it was the best night ever. You got anything to say to that?!”

 

Silence had descended on the kitchen for a moment, broken only by the frantic whispering between Rhodey and Sam and the scrape of Wanda's plate as she pushed it away from her, decidedly green around the gills again, before Tony figured out how to close his mouth and form words again.

 

“Actually yes, I do have something to say about that.” Clint, who was mentally preparing himself for the worst, frowned in confusion as Tony turned towards Steve. “You're Captain fricking America. How come you don't fuck me like that? That - “ Tony pointed at Clint, “ - sounded incredible and Barton is getting it from Speedy? You're ten times as strong as him and I've always been able to walk the next day. That's it..” Tony stood up and started pulling a beet red and gaping mouthed Steve towards the elevator. “You are going to fuck me right now and just remember, Clint couldn't walk for three days – you better see if you can make it four, Captain.”

 

As the elevator door closed the noise that erupted in the kitchen proved to Clint that he wasn't the only one that had no idea that Steve and Tony were even a thing.

 

Pietro came and sat down next to him on one of the counter stools, stealing a sip from his coffee mug. “Well, at least they're not talking about us anymore, right?”

 

Clint nods, dazedly.

 

“Want to go to the bedroom and see if I we can outdo them?” Pietro grins.

 

Clint nods, dazedly.

 

Let the competition begin......


End file.
